No Way
by Clara Barton
Summary: Zechs prepares to give his hall yet ANOTHER reprimand. Summer of Zechs, June 13: College AU


June 13: College AU

A/N: A thousand thanks to Ro for everything you do. Thank you so so much for being my beta.

Warnings: language

 _No Way_

8:05.

He had called the meeting for 8:00, and since it was a Tuesday night, there was absolutely _no_ reason why any of the freshman he had been tasked with keeping alive should be late.

And yet.

Half of the common room was empty.

There were, in fact, only six of the fourteen students who _should_ be cowering in front of him.

The ones present weren't even cowering.

Two of them were even groping each other. Another was studying, another had on headphones and was staring so intently at her phone that Zechs wondered about her vision.

Not _one_ of them was paying attention to Zechs as he fumed silently at the front of the room.

8:08.

"Um, Zechs, if this meeting isn't happening, can we go? I've got a paper to write and-"

"Sit back down, Maxwell," Zechs snapped. " _You_ are part of the reason we are having this meeting in the _first_ place."

The freshman sank back down in his chair, grinning at the other freshmen who turned to glare at him.

Finally, at 8:15, seven more of them came into the room, not a single one of them looking repetent for being late.

"Where is your roommate?" Zechs asked Quatre Winner.

"Um… I don't know? I tried to text him, but he didn't answer."

Zechs sighed. Again.

But he wasn't about to hold the meeting up any longer.

 _He_ had shit to do.

"There have been _several_ complaints," he started. It was the same way he had started the mandatory floor meeting _last_ month.

" _Someone_ on this floor has set off the fire alarm _twice_ this last week. At three in the morning. If I lose anymore sleep because one of you idiots thinks it's a joke to hold a lighter under the alarm in your room, I _will_ get you fined. Are we clear?"

He searched their faces, but everyone turned a carefully neutral or overtly irritated face to him.

"It has also come to my attention that there is a _cat_ on this floor. There are _no_ animals allowed in _any_ dorm on campus. Whichever one of you is trying to hide a _cat_ in your dorm _will_ get fined. If _any_ of you have any information about the cat, you need to tell me about it."

More of the same kinds of looks. Maxwell's lips twitched.

But Maxwell, Zechs knew, was allergic to cats. And he practically lived in all-black clothing. The cat was _not_ staying in his room.

Zechs hated freshmen.

He hated being an RA.

He'd only done it because of the single room he was guaranteed, the line on his resume, and the ongoing competition between Zechs and Noin that he was pretty sure she had won years ago, but there was no way he was _ever_ giving in.

"I have also had several complaints from the other floors that _most_ of you make too much noise. Stop. Be quiet. Go to sleep. Study. Stop trying to fail your classes."

Zechs's attention was pulled away from the sullen faces staring at him by the very late arrival of Quatre Winner's roommate, Trowa Barton. The tall man didn't look at all apologetic as he walked into the room and leaned against the back wall.

"Finally-" Zechs paused, and sighed yet again. He couldn't believe he was about to have to do this. "There were several anonymous questions left in the logbook. All of which I am _required_ to answer."

He had checked, had gone to Noin and begged her to do it for him. Had actually held her hand, looked into her eyes, and promised to do _anything_ if she would just do this one thing for him. She had refused, patted his head, and told him it would be good for him.

"The first question. Is it possible to get pregnant from a blowjob?"

Maxwell made a sound between a laugh and a cough, and appeared to be choking as he slapped a hand over his mouth and doubled over.

 _If_ he died, it would be one less troublemaker for Zechs to lose sleep over.

"The answer is no. Semen does not travel from your mouth to your vagina."

"Uterus," Meilan Long corrected.

Zechs sighed.

"Right. Your uterus."

It looked as if a third of the room was trying not to laugh - most with more success than Maxwell - a third were trying to dissolve into their seats, and a third looked… genuinely curious about what he was saying.

Zechs really hated freshmen.

"The next question… Does anal sex hurt?"

Nearly every student's faces were red for one reason or another.

Trowa Barton, arms folded and face half-hidden by his hair, appeared to be the only one unmoved by the question.

"It depends," Zechs said, fighting to keep his voice neutral and his mind free of _any_ images of _any_ of them needing an answer to this question. "But with proper preparation and lubrication, anal sex should, ideally, be pleasurable for everyone involved."

"The third question-"

"Holy fuck, how many _are_ there?" Maxwell burst out.

Zechs glared at him.

"No, I just- This is like… the best way to spend my Tuesday night. Free entertainment and- Damn, could I just make a bag of popcorn or-"

" _Sit_ down," Zechs sighed.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"The third question?" Hilde Scheibker, Maxwell's constant companion, prompted.

Zechs held up the logbook, to make it abundantly clear he was directly quoting someone else and that the words he was about to say were in no way his own.

"What do I do if my dick is too big for a condom?"

He looked over the logbook and glared at each of the male freshmen in turn. Barton still had on his impenetrable expression of boredom, Maxwell's eyes were wide and his lips curved upwards in delight, Wufei Chang looked like he was contemplating whether or not to just get up and walk out, Ralph Kurt was red-faced and refused to meet Zechs's eyes, and Heero Yuy had his head cocked to one side and seemed genuinely interested in what Zechs was saying.

"There are extended sizes for condoms. I assure you, that unless you have a medical condition, there are condoms big enough for you. They just might not be the free ones at the campus clinic."

"Isn't that," Maxwell started, coughed, and then forged ahead, "isn't that discriminatory? I mean… if you got a big dick… shouldn't protection be available to you for free also?"

Zechs glared at him, and Maxwell had the cheek to _grin_ back.

"Take it up with the clinic staff. Start a petition. Hold rallies on the quad. It's not up to me what size condoms the clinic distributes."

Dorothy Catalonia raised her hand.

"What?" Zechs knew it wasn't going to be good. It never was, where she was concerned.

"Speaking of the free male contraceptives that are distributed on campus, why aren't there free menstrual products?"

Some of the other women nodded in agreement, and they _all_ looked at Zechs with narrowed eyes.

"Again, that is not up to me and-"

"So you're just going to pass this off as not your problem? Because you don't have a uterus?" Long jumped in again, and Zechs knew this was going nowhere good fast. Whenever Long and Catalonia were on the same page, Zechs usually ended up contemplating dropping out of school.

"This is so typical. You answer all of these ridiculous questions about sex involving dicks, but the moment a woman asks you something that affects her physical and mental health, you shrug it off as if it's not even worth your time."

Catalonia crossed her arms and tossed her hair.

All of the other women were glaring at him.

"Fine. _Fine_. Make a list of whatever products you need, and I'll put them in the kitchen for you to use for _free_."

"Okay, but what about the extra large condoms? Because clearly _someone_ here needs some help and cares about-"

"I will buy the extra large condoms as well," Zechs ground out before Maxwell could get started.

"Now, if there is nothing else, you all are dismissed. Do _not_ earn another noise complaint, and get rid of the damn cat."

Without even waiting for anyone to ask another question, Zechs strode out of the room, down the hall, and into his own room. He closed the door with enough force that it made a resounding noise that did nothing to alleviate his irritation.

He was supposed to be on a _date_. An actual date at an actual restaurant with actual food and _no_ caf, no freshmen, no _anything_ except for a sexy chem major and a lot of wine. But instead, Zechs had had to schedule the floor meeting for _tonight_ because the Resident Director was riding his ass and half of his floor took Wednesday night classes and Dorothy and Meilan had sorority meetings on Thursday nights and had threatened him with gender discrimination for even _suggesting_ they skip a _single_ meeting, and no one, especially Zechs, was willing to give up a Friday night to the actual, literal hell of a mandatory floor meeting.

Zechs was ready to send an email to the RD and quit, ready to tell Noin she was, as she had always suggested, his superior in every way. He was ready to start looking at transferring to some community college on the beach. _Anything_ to avoid having to _ever_ talk to his freshmen again.

This meeting hadn't even been bad, compared to the other ones. Compared to the one where Cathy Bloom had asked about sexual assault counseling and _five_ of the freshmen had come to him afterwards to get the name of the counselor they should talk to. Compared to the one where Kurt had actually started to _cry_ when Meilan and Dorothy ganged up on him for using the common room to call his high school girlfriend. Compared to the one where he had had to reprimand the entire group because one or more of them were using the communal handicap bathroom to have sex in, and apparently both of the dorms adjoining the bathroom could _hear_ the unusually loud and very enthusiastic sex.

This, compared to all of the others, was practically _easy_.

And yet, as Zechs lay down on his bed and rubbed his eyes, _that_ was part of what made it so awful.

 _This_ was the new normal for him.

And Zechs hated it intensely.

Someone knocked on his door.

For a moment, Zechs gave serious thought to pretending he wasn't in his room. But he knew that they had all seen him storm down the hall and slam his door.

Another knock, brisk and insistent, and Zechs rolled off of his bed and crossed the room to yank the door open.

Trowa Barton stood there, hand raised to knock again. He took in Zechs's scowl and arched an eyebrow.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked in a voice that was _absolutely_ amused at Zechs's expense.

"You were late to the mandatory meeting."

Barton nodded.

"That's why I wanted to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Zechs sighed, and opened the door wide enough for Barton to come in.

"Is this an open or closed door conversation?" Zechs asked. He had learned to ask that question after Meilan had angrily slammed his door closed before sitting down on his desk and telling Zechs no fewer than seven things about female anatomy Zechs had never, ever wanted to know.

"Closed," Barton said, and Zechs closed the door before gesturing for him to sit down in the armchair that barely fit into the room.

Instead of sitting, however, Barton crossed his arms and leaned against the bookcase beside Zechs's desk.

"Quatre said you wanted people to come forward with information about the cat."

Zechs arched an eyebrow.

He hadn't expected _anyone_ to come forward.

In addition to all of their _other_ annoying habits, the fourteen freshmen on his hall seemed determined to embrace an "all for one" mentality that resulted in anonymous complaints and no one _ever_ coming forward to confess or inform on their peers.

"You know whose cat it is?"

Barton nodded, but remained silent.

"Are you going to tell me?" Zechs finally had to ask.

Barton's eyes actually twinkled.

"What's in it for me?"

"What do you _mean_ 'what's in it for you?'" Zechs growled.

Barton lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug.

"You're getting the girls what they want, you're getting extra large condoms so Heero and Ralph can have sex. What about what I want?"

Zechs wondered if it was too late to apply to an exchange program. One that would, hopefully, start immediately.

"And what," Zechs sighed again, "do you want?"

Barton smirked and straightened up. He ran a hand through his hair, briefly flicking it off his face and revealing shockingly perfect bone structure.

Zechs found himself staring, found himself looking over the freshman with new eyes as he realized that, tall and thin as he was, Barton still had broad shoulders and his narrow hips were appealing.

Barton stepped closer to Zechs, until there were only a few inches between them, and Zechs realized just how tall he was. And how very, very green his eyes were.

"I want," Barton stepped even closer, "free four-ply toilet paper."

"You _what_?" Zechs took a step back and glared at the other man. "I'm not providing _toilet_ paper for you!"

"Not just me. The whole floor."

"The _whole floor -_ no. Absolutely not. That's insane. That's-"

"Everyone shits. Less than half of us seem to have a uterus. Only Heero and Ralph seem to have problems with condoms. But we all shit. And the TP they sell at the STU is two-ply and overpriced. Give each of the dorm rooms a roll of four-ply every two weeks and I'll tell you who's taking care of the cat."

Zechs narrowed his eyes. It was a ridiculous request.

It was even more ridiculous that there was a _cat_ living on his floor and Zechs couldn't figure out _who_ it belonged to.

"Fine," he growled. "Tell me who has the cat and I'll start providing the toilet paper."

Barton shook his head.

"If I tell you now, there's no reason for you to follow through. Provide us all with TP for the next month and I'll trust you enough to tell you."

"Fine," Zechs bit out. " _Fine_. I'll pass out new rolls of four-ply tomorrow."

Barton nodded.

"Sylvia and Quatre would prefer it if the TP is made from recycled toilet paper. Meilan says that Whole Foods sells a brand of four-ply sustainably-sourced TP."

Zechs realized that they had planned this.

All of those little shits.

They had sent Barton in to negotiate.

"Fine. Get out."

Barton smirked, offered him a little salute, and then sauntered out of the room.

It wasn't until he was gone, until the door had closed behind him, that Zechs realized.

One month.

Final exams were in three weeks.

He _hated_ freshmen.

-o-


End file.
